Qudeisha

The deployment and disposition of the troops was optimal. We had all the forces of the Unified Parallel Universes under our command. We were allied and working towards a single goal.

And even with all of us together, it wasn't enough.

Ranks upon ranks of demolishing ideas stood arrayed around the branes of the Quenby. The singularly trained Pinyin Jiǔ, some with version numbers too high to comprehend, posed with studied indifference looking at their nails. Flocks of vicious Calabi Yau chewed the scenery, hanging from the Kähler manifolds of Chern class Devastators as they revved their engines in the streets. Mock Holes threatened to implode reality around them as they idled their screws on the Ricci Flats.

Then all hell was unleashed.

The Quenby's reputation for destruction was well-earned. World after world had fallen before it. One by one, realities caught in its path were shattered. No world had come to another's aid, and the Quenby had never been attacked offensively. Now, confronted for the first time, the full force of the Quenby was unleashed. Here was the power that had devoured the @Quinto, almost obliterated the @Quince, and utterly destroyed the Quintella.

It was more than the UPU could withstand. Division after division of the most perfect, immortal, ultimately evolved and endlessly iterated super soldiers and killing machines of a thousand worlds fell below the crushing event horizon of the Quenby. The combined army of the Unified Parallel Universes was about to be routed.

And then the @Quince appeared. In her bandoliers and gambler's hat, just like in the stories. Her hands moved too fast for the unaided human eye to see, and even with the time-slowing goggles she appeared multi-armed, brandishing her silver pistols, a trident, a conch, swords, a flower. She does a diving roll behind an old horse cart and pops up on the other side.

"This one's for Quintella."

The bullet moves like a supersonic shark, increasing in mass as it approaches the speed of light. The Quenby moves its mouth in slow motion, making a revelatory "O" as the slug makes contact with its third eye, and explodes.